Of That We Seek
by Silvergrace
Summary: King Alistair of Ferelden enlists Varric and Isabela to help him track down the one responsible for his father's disappearance. When their quest leads them to the manipulating witch, Yavana, of the Tellari swamps there only seems to be more questions and not enough answers. W ill the discovery of a gem containing an ancient soul help him discover the truth?
1. A Shattered Soul

This story follows the events of the Dragon Age comic book series "The Silent Grove" so if you haven't read the series yet then WARNING: SPOILERS! You have been warned, enjoy!

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**The Silent Grove….**

Alistair stood over the body of the witch, Yavana. This road had not led him to the end that he had been so desperately hoping for, which was the ending of his quest of finally locating and finding his father, King Maric. No, the path continued onward leading elsewhere to wherever this Aurelian Titus was located. He let out a heavy sigh expelling the overwhelming amount of disappointment that he felt inside him. As he turned to leave to make his way to the staircase that had led him down into the Hall of Sleepers, he heard the High Dragon, the dragon queen, growl at him from the execution he performed on its master.

"Going to eat me?" he asked aloud as the beast stared at him blankly. The dragon queen took a step back its glowing red irises blinking rapidly as it began to shake itself as though there were a pesky bug flying around it. "I didn't think so," turning away Alistair began for the staircase that would lead him to the temple above.

"Hello?" A voice faint and distant echoed though out the large cavern. Startled, Alistair searched his gaze around the room to face whoever it was he heard. He tightened his grip on the sword in his hand but he saw no one. Only he and the dragon were all that existed in the chamber. Perhaps it was his imagination that was getting the best of him. That or the unsettling feeling he felt starting to creep up on him after being down here in this eery place for so long. He started for the staircase again.

"Is someone out there?" This time the voice was stronger. More than just above a whisper.

This time Alistair surveyed the room more carefully, but once more no one was in sight. "Who's there?" he called out.

He heard the voice again. "Hello? If you can hear me, please, don't leave."

This time the voice was loud enough for Alistair to identify it as female. It was a haunting voice that carried an obvious state of weakness and despair, but left just a touch of hope in its wake. The pain that could be heard from it was enough to tug at his heartstrings and to rouse his curiosity. As he listened to it Alistair felt his feet lead him to Yavana's corpse. On the witch's hip he saw a coin purse secured to her belt where a faint purple light pulsed from within.

"Don't go." Once again the voice brought a wave of utter sorrow that washed over him. And against his better judgment Alistair knelt by the corpse, freed the small pouch from its deceased owner and loosened the strings. From the purse tumbled out a strange sort of item onto his waiting hand. It was a dark purple crystal, but the colouring was so dark that without looking at it closely one would have mistaken it as black. It was fashioned into the shape of what appeared to be a shining star detailed with bits of metal. In Alistair's mind it was a pretty and odd design all in one. Though he guessed that the metal had been used to strengthen the star's points to avoid having them accidentally break off. The piece was no bigger than the size of his outstretched hand with the center part of the crystal nearly the size of his palm.

To Alistair's amazement the item began to glow once more as he heard a sigh of relief fill his ears. "So you did hear me."

Now throughout his life Alistair had come across many strange things during his time as a Grey Warden during the Blight. Everything pretty much from ghosts to demons and talking trees animated by souls long since passed. But a talking stone? That was a new one even for him. "Um, hello?" he responded hesitantly, praying to the Maker above that this wasn't some clever trick by a demon that was about to steal his soul or something.

The stone gave a hollow laugh. "Hello, there. Are you the one that killed Yavana?"

"Yes."

The glow seemed to become brighter hearing his response. "You have my thanks, stranger. It was about high time that someone put a sword to that witch. Wish I had the ability to do it myself, really."

Strange that an item that had been in the property of the witch would sound so relieved to hear the death of it's former master. "Ah, what, who are you exactly?"

"Forgive me," the voice spoke softly and slowly in a wispy kind of way, as though the ability of speech was difficult for it. "I was so anxious to see another person's face after all this time I forgot myself. I am a spirit trapped inside this gem."

Well, at least it wasn't a demon. That is, of course, if it was telling the truth. "A spirit?"

"Yes," the gem breathed, "my name is Kiinalyn. The witch, Yavana, has-had been sapping my soul, for gods know how long, like a leech to enhance her own powers for her magic and to use me for gaining control over the dragon."

Hearing mention of the dragon caused Alistair to look over at the beast that sat on the other side of the cavern. It remained still, watching almost as if were simply observing this strange exchange he was having with the spirit in the gem. This spirit had to be extremely powerful to control a beast of that size. "Is that… is that even possible?", he inquired.

"It is if you have the right tools at hand," the spirit, Kiinalyn simply explained. "This is old magic and I am an old old spirit. And somehow Yavana knew what she had when I came into her possession."

"And just how long were you in her care?"

"I… I don't know," she confessed after some hesitation. "But I know that it has been a long long time. In this gem time ceases to exist. It is as if time is frozen and there is no end to it. Because of this I plea with you stranger, please please, break me."

Upon hearing the request Alistair couldn't help the flash back that came to his mind from years ago during the time of the Blight. His trip into the mysterious Brecilian Forest. "Break you?"

"Yes, take your sword, shatter this prison, and let me be free. Let me finally know peace."

For a brief moment Alistair felt himself transported back in time by his memories walking through the Brecilian Forest into the lair of the werewolves. He heard his armored feet echo in the ruins of the long forgotten elvin temple, finding the small vial that contained the spirit of a great elvin warrior that lived long ago but had trapped himself, a sad cruel fate indeed. "Well, before I even agree to such a request how do I know you are not a demon? How do I know I'm not about to unleash some evil upon the world? Or that you will posses me?" he accused.

"I am of no demon or evil entity that thrives on the chaos of the world," she assured him. "And if I wished you dead I would have ordered the dragon to do so and believe me I have the ability to do so." Well, she did have a point there. "As for possessing you, if I did have the power to do that, don't you think that I would have already tried that with Yavana?!" Again another good point. In that statement alone Alistair could hear all the frustration and anger that the spirit had no doubt been building up since her imprisonment in the gem. It made him feel ashamed of accusing her to be capable of such things. But then again he didn't know this spirit at all and what she was even capable of doing. Then Kiinalyn's voice got very quiet, trembling with emotion. "All I am is a tired broken spirit that wishes nothing more than for an end for this pathetic excuse of an existence. I'm begging you to show some compassion and have mercy on this shell of a husk I have become. Please, let this end," she begged.

Again Alistair was back in the ruins with the vial in his hands with a stranger's memories flashing though his mind. With the pain, sadness and loneliness he felt from the entity from within that had been waiting an eternity for one who would grant him his simple wish. "And this is what you truly want?"

"Do you know what it is like to be alive, yet to not truly live?" her voice wept with grief. "I am alive, but at the same time I am dead. It has been so long since I have felt the sun warming my skin, felt the rain, the wind, had the taste of a warm meal. It's maddening."

He felt the relief from the essence from within the bottle when he agreed to perform its host's request. The satisfaction of knowing that oblivion was about to greet him. Of peace. Remembering the experience with crystal clarity it was very difficult of Alistair to even consider denying the request. "Well, when you put it like that… I will give you the ending you seek."

Relief was evident in Kiinalyn's voice. "Thank you, stranger."

The dragon queen's growl echoed throughout the chamber seeming to show her disapproval of what was about to take place. As if she somehow understood their conversation.

This caused Alistair to hesitate somewhat. "She's not going to eat me, is she?"

"No, I will ensure that she leaves you in peace." Kiinalyn then addressed the dragon, but the tongue in which she spoke in was in another language so foreign that Alistair didn't know what to place it as. But hearing the spirit speak the language it sounded strong and curt with each word seeming to hold a sense of power and meaning all on its own.

Once she was done the dragon reeled itself in and once again regained its composure as the silent observer. Whatever Kiinalyn had said to the dragon to make it understand her seemed to have done the trick.

"Are you ready then?" he asked.

"I have been ready for this for a long time. I embrace my journey to Sovngarde with open arms."

Alistair felt all these questions inside him bubble to the surface. No doubt there was so many things this old spirit knew. So much that he could learn from. So much he could inquire of her. What was the language that she spoke of? How did the dragon queen understand her? What was Sovngarde? But to ask such things would be selfish of him for he would be delaying the end to which she had undoubtedly been waiting so long for. For who knew how many years she had been trapped and used as a tool by Yavana. With that thought in mind Alistair gingerly placed the gem on the cold hard ground of the cavern. He grasped his sword with both hands and was about to raise it over his head when the spirit spoke once again.

"May I ask you something?" she asked quickly.

"I can't see why not," he shrugged. But then again it depended on the question itself.

"Will you tell me your name?" she asked quietly almost shyly. "I would like to know the name of the man that gave me peace."

He let a small smile appear on his face. "It's Alistair."

Once again the light from the stone intensified. "You have my eternal thanks, Alistair. Divines bless your soul."

"I only hope you find the peace you seek."

"Thank you," she breathed out.

With thanks spoken and silent good byes unsaid Alistair then raised the broad sword over his head and struck it down with all his might onto the gemstone prison. The force from the blow echoed harshly throughout the cavern, but gave Alistair the feeling of satisfaction that he was able to help the poor soul move on. With his sword clasped tightly in both hands he removed the sword from his vision to see the results of his handy work. But when he pulled the sword away he saw that the gem was still intact. Perfectly so. Not even a scratch. It took him a moment to snap himself out of his stunned state and proceeded to strike the gem two more times, but he found that he wasn't even capable of even leaving a dent much less coming close to successfully shattering the thing.

At a loss of what to do next Alistair found himself looking up to gaze at the dragon as if the creature would present him with a suggestion on how to proceed. But to even add more confusion to the situation the dragon had its gaze to the floor refusing to meet eye contact with him. Almost as if it were somehow capable of displaying the emotion of guilt. As if the dragon itself had known all along what the outcome of his good intentions would be. Its composure reminded Alistair of how a mabari pup would look when its master caught it doing something bad. Alistair was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a faint chant come from the stone.

"No no no no no." And then Kiinalyn began a heart-wrenching maddening cry of despair, "NO!" The star gem gave off an immediate burst of blinding white light that lit up the entire chamber causing Alistair to look away in pain. He was briefly able to see the dragon recoil away from the intensity of it. Curling a wing around itself to shield itself from the light. And then as fast as it had started the light faded and where once the star gem seemed to pulse with light of the soul within became dark and silent.


	2. Voice Within

"Seriously, this thing spoke to you?" the dwarven rogue, Varric, asked with pure curiosity as he studied the strange star gem in his hands. He held it up to the light that shone through the temple for a better look at it. The fragments in the gem reflected brilliant speckles of purple around the room where the sunshine hit it.

Alistair sighed. After what had happened down in the caverns, being unsuccessful in destroying the gem that was the prison of the entrapped soul of a woman by the name Kiinalyn, he had been at a loss of what to do. Feeling a mixture of guilt and pity on the soul within Alistair had decided to take the gem stone back up to the surface with him. He had a hell of a time explaining all that happened in the chamber below to his companions. "Yes, I'm positive."

"You sure?" Varric asked skeptically. "Cause I haven't heard a peep out of it all day."

It's true. Alistair hadn't heard a peep from the spirit all day as well. It had been hours since he had heard the spirit's outburst. "It spoke to me, Varric."

The pirate, Isabela, wandered over. "You sure you aren't coming down with a case of jungle fever, Alistair? Because that would explain everything, really." She snatched the gem out of Varric's hands to gander a look at the thing herself. "And if you did hallucinate the whole thing then maybe we can hock this thing off. It's got to be worth something surely. It does seem to be made out of some kind of crystal, after all. Could be rare for all we know. Maker, knows I can surely use the coin."

Alistair shot her a skeptical glare. "Even after the amount of gold I paid you to accompany me on this adventure?" Isabela was an old acquaintance of sort from back in the day. She was a pirate and a thief and considered herself to be the sharpest blade in Rivain. Alistair had hired her on for this task of his because she had better knowledge than he had of certain parts of the city of Antiva, where this quest first started. The dwarf, Varric Tethras, was Isabela's traveling companion who decided to tag along for the adventure. He would be lucky if there was a single sovereign in the treasury after all this.

"It is an odd piece though, isn't it?" Varric said. Pointing out the obvious, interrupting the two.

Alistair agreed with him. The craftsmanship of it was unlike anything he had seen before. "Have you ever seen anything like this before, Varric? You have come across a lot of unusual things, haven't you?"

Varric pondered for a moment. "Well, I got to admit its strangeness does remind me of that damn idol we found in the Deep Roads."

The Deep Roads was home to all kinds strangeness and mysteries. Alistair remembered Varric telling the tale of his and his brother's first expedition into the roads. It didn't turn out as he had expected. "The one that drove the Knight Commander of Kirkwall insane?" He remembered well of his first encounter with the woman, Meredith, when he had visited Kirkwall a few years ago. She wasn't exactly what he would call a charming woman at the time.

"Yep, that's the one," the dwarf snapped his fingers before regarding him with suspicion. "You haven't been hearing any voices in your head, have you?"

"Or had any crazy, blood-lust thoughts?" Isabela chimed in.

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Ha ha, I'm perfectly fine, thank you."

Varric shuffled closer to his pirate friend. "Maybe that stone is just getting him to tell us what we want to hear," he said all in good humor as he tried to hold back a snicker.

Why did he ask these two to come along again? "Can we please stop questioning my sanity for the moment. We do have bigger problems, after all."

"Ah, yes," Isabela said. "We need to get out of these blasted swamps, get back to the ship if they haven't already assumed that we're all dead yet, find the man that took your father and wait, hold on, there is something I'm forgetting. Oh, right...the over-sized bitch brute of a dragon that won't let us leave!" Pointing outside the temple entrance with great theatrics at the dragon queen that sat in the field before the structure. It was a strange thing. Alistair had assumed that after he had killed Yavana the dragon would simply leave on its own record and fly away. Instead it had chosen to sentinel itself almost as it were waiting for something. When Alistair had finally made his way out of the chamber downstairs he had been greeted by the rays of the rising sun that had just been starting to peek over the horizon outside of the temple. That and a dragon queen out on the front lawn. The sun was now hanging high in the afternoon sky showing how much time had passed since then.

"Well, at least it hasn't turned the temple to rubble," Varric sighed, looking on the bright side of things.

Isabela growled her frustrations. "You said this thing spoke to the dragon," waving the star gem before Alistair. "Why can't it do it again? The two of them can have a nice little chat about letting us be on our merry way."

Alistair sighed. He was frustrated too, but the workings of the gem were far beyond his understanding. "It's not as if I know how this, whatever this thing is, works."

"What's to understand? You give it a shake, you give it a rap and go 'Hello?'" She rapped on the gem's central surface. "Anybody in there?! You're being a major inconvenience to us, you know." Isabela spoke down to the spirit within as she continued to shake the gem with all her might.

Alistair snatched her wrist. "Give it a rest, Isabela." He said, taking the star out of her possession. Last thing they needed right now, given their current situation, was to piss off a spirit that had, Maker knows, what kind of powers. For all they knew, if they ended up on this spirit's bad side, they could end up cursed. Or worse, thinking back to his conversation with the spirit down in the Hall of Sleepers, be served up to the dragon outside as bite sized snacks. "How would you feel if you found out you had to spend an eternity in a vessel?"

Isabela crossed her arms. "Well, I know the feeling better than you think, darling." She huffed. "Since we are, in fact, trapped in a temple guarded by a very hungry dragon with no possible way of escaping without one of us becoming dinner. At this rate, for all I know, we could be here for all eternity."

"We'll figure out something," he assured her. The dragon couldn't stay out there forever. Then again neither could they sit and wait in here forever. And it's not as if they journeyed into these swamps with packs brimming with supplies. But he had to hope for the best.

Isabela seemed unconvinced. "Maybe Varric can sweet talk this so- called spirit out."

Varric gave a hearty laugh. "Well, I suppose I have done stranger things. Just how does one charm a spirit out of its shell anyway?"

"Well, whatever it is you do, do it fast. I'm getting awfully sick of being cooped up in this blasted temple." She said before throwing a death glare in the dragon's direction. "This is why I hate the bloody overgrown lizards. They always seem to cause one problem after another."

An irritated voice spoke up. "You really have no idea just how important they are, do you?"

All eyes turned to the star gem in Alistair's hand. It's core was pulsing that eery purple light once more which Alistair was trying to decide on whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. But right now, all he knew was that he was relieved. Hearing the spirit's voice again gave him some hope that she might be willing to assist them in getting past the dragon. He knew she had the ability after hearing her speak to the beast hours earlier.

"What do you know, it does talk." Varric said surprised. "Guess you weren't so crazy after all there, huh, Alistair?"

Isabela didn't seem so impressed at seeing his previous words come true. If anything she was more irritated. "About time, I say. Were you just going to wait till we all starved to death before you said a damn word?"

"Funny," the spirit said in the same ton of voice. "You would think after a few hundred years of solitude I would be grateful to hear another's voice. Oh, how you have proved me wrong, pirate."

Isabella was taken aback. "And just how did you know I'm a pirate, you piece of junk?"

"Oh please, you're dressed like a scavenger on the docks of Riften. Even the Forsworn wear more cloth than you." Again Alistair was hearing this spirit using names of places and, what he assumed were, people that he had never heard of before. He wondered if her saying 'a few hundred years' was her being sarcastic or her being truthful.

"You know, for a disembodied spirit, you have quite a stick up your arse." Isabela said as she glared at the gem with disdain. "Tell me, is it because you're stuck in a rock or is it that you have always been naturally cranky?"

The irritation in Kiinalyn's voice was rapidly growing stronger. Isabela sure had a talent for pissing people, even spirits, off. "It is more so hearing your constant whining all day. I've known people who have had their homes burned to the ground, hell, even a man who lost both his legs who didn't bellyache as much as you."

Now that comment really got under the pirate's skin. "Listen here you little—!"

"Now, now, Rivani." Varric stepped in. "Let us all settle down before someone gets hurt. Here let me-" he gestured to Alistair to hand him the relic. Once the item was in the dwarf's possession he cleared his voice and proceeded. "Forgive my friend here old wise and powerful spirit. Isabela has just been a little on edge lately."

"Hmmm 'old wise and powerful spirit' huh?" Kiinalyn chuckled lightly. Her voice instantly turning into a more pleasant and friendly tone. Alistair really did have to hand it to Varric. The dwarf did have a way with charming people. Even ghosts. "Well, isn't that the best one line opener for a kiss assing speech I have ever heard."

Varric gave a chuckle of his own. "Heard that line before, have you?"

"Some along the same lines, yes. Of course none performed in such a charming masculine voice."

The dwarf seemed to enjoy the touch of playfulness he heard in her tone. Alistair was surprised. It was so different for him to hear that tone after the soul crushing one he had heard her speak earlier down in the Hall of Sleepers. "Now, I would be the one lying saying I haven't heard that line before."

The spirit's voice changed to a more thoughtful tone. "I find myself curious as to whom I now find myself speaking to."

"Varric Tethras, merchant and legendary famed storyteller, not to brag or anything." He introduced himself as he flashed his best smile. Out of the corner of his eye Alistair could see Isabela rolling her eyes at the exchange they were witnessing before them. "I hope you are a lot nicer than some of the other spirits I've met."

"A pleasure to meet you, Varric. I am Kiinalyn Stormblazer. Prisoner of the star of Azura." Varric's eye lit up with interest. "Oh, I know I smell one hell of a story here."

"Ask the right questions and you might get to hear the story of your life." Varric grinned. "Now I like the sound of that."

"But I don't just tell my stories to just anyone you know."

"I'm sure we can work out an arrangement we would both be happy with. After all, the trade of tales just happens to be one of my specialties."

Isabela rolled her eyes again. "Would you, please, stop flirting with the damn relic already, you damn dwarf."

The pirate distracted the dwarf briefly from the spirit. "Hey, I'm a natural charmer. I can't help it."

"More like shameless flirt." Isabela countered.

"Look who's talking."

"Wait! Hold on here!" Kiinalyn interrupted distracting them both from their little argument. "You're a dwarf?" she asked in complete awe and genuine curiosity.

Varric studied the gem. "Yes. What? You sound like you've never seen a dwarf before."

"I haven't," she confessed.

"What?" Alistair asked. He couldn't believe his ears. How was it that anyone, even an old spirit, had never seen a dwarf? She must have led a very isolated life during the time when she was alive.

"Dwarves haven't been seen in hundreds of years," she explained as though it were common knowledge. "They disappeared long before my time. I can't believe it." She said with awe. "Times certainly have changed. Just where exactly am I?"

"In the Tellari swamps in Antiva." Alistair answered.

"I see… " Kiinalyn grew quiet for a moment before she spoke with a fire in her voice. "I want to make a deal with you. An arrangement if you will. I believe we can both be of help to one another."

"Just what kind of deal are we talking about?" Isabela asked suspiciously.

"I want to hear about everything, any knowledge that you have to spare. And I mean everything. The land, the people, its history. Everything. And in return I'll help you anyway I can with the dragon and I might just be able to give you some of the answers you are looking for, Alistair."

Alistair found that creeping sense of curiosity he felt back in the caverns return. "Such as?"

"I heard what Yavana said before you killed her. About how your heart beats with the blood of old. You want to know what that truly means, don't you? Why your blood has such power? How your bloodline descended from a time when dragons ruled the skies? A time before the Veil, of the Fade itself? You wish to know the truth of these answers, don't you?"

Alistair was hooked and he and the spirit both knew it. "You're saying you know of such things?"

"I'm saying more than that. I'm telling you that I lived them. I was not alive at the time when the world was new and the dragons ruled over man and mer, but I did live before the magic changed. Before the Veil and the Fade. I lived in a time before the darkspawn terrorized the lands."

Before the darkspawn? Just where exactly in history was this spirit born into? To live in a time without the tainted creatures, without having to worry about the Veil and the Fade. What must have all of that been like? His curiosity was sure getting the better of him and that was dangerous.

"Just how old are you exactly?" he asked.

Kiinalyn sighed. "For me time is endless in the gem. I am not certain how long I have been contained in here, but I think it's safe to say a few hundred years or so. Maybe even longer. All I know for certain is that this land is not the land I had grown up to know. Far from the days of old Skyrim."

Alistair thought for a moment as he recalled all the history he had learned from the Chantry and from the Grey Wardens themselves. Never once in all the texts he read or the teachings he was taught did the name Skyrim come up. But his knowledge of other events did help him with one thing.

"If you came from a time before the darkspawn then you must have lived before the first Blight. And that was over eight hundred years ago."

"So I'm guessing around a thousand years, give or take?" Varric hazard a guess. It did seem like a fair one. Since no one knew of a time when the Veil or the Fade didn't existed.

"Has it only been that long?" Kiinalyn said tiredly. "Feels like an eternity has come and gone for me."

Alistair felt himself getting excited. Finally someone who might finally supply him more answers than questions. "So you could tell me everything? About my blood? About the times of the Ancients? Anything?"

Kiinalyn hesitated for a moment. "I don't know if I'll be able to tell you all about your blood, but perhaps my knowledge will help you get one step closer to finding the truth. I don't hold all the knowledge of my time, but I do know a great deal of it. I was a scholar and adventurer when I was alive. If you ask, I will tell you what you wish to know if I am able. As the saying goes-knowledge is power and that is something I hold a great deal of. Just, please, don't make me stay here for another thousand years." She pleaded.

Alistair smiled. "I'm sure we can work it all out."


	3. A World Forgotten

Hi everyone, I just want to say thanks to everyone for their reviews and everything they really make my day and how I appreciate your patience with this newest update. Something unexpected had happened in my life and I hope you can understand for the delay, but it was something that I needed to deal with and now I'm back to writing and will do my best to get the rest of these chaps out in a more reasonable time frame. Enjoy and thanks again for your support!

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**Varric POV**

After having a nice friendly chat with the spirit, Kiinalyn the mysterious woman, eagerly agreed to speak to the large and very pointed toothed dragon queen on behalf of them. As Varric witnessed this with his very own eyes he could feel his fingers twitching to have an ink pen and his handy little note-taking journal for all of his story recording needs. It was an interesting thing to see a long forgotten ancient spirit talk down a dragon from consuming them all. The great spirit conversed with the queen in a language that Varric was safe to guess was as old as the spirit herself. And like her the meaning over time had faded away with history. Once the spirit had said what she needed to say the dragon seemed to nod at some unknown agreement between them before turning around, took a mighty earth shattering leap and bounded up into the sky disappearing into the clouds above.

Finally, it was time to make their merry way back to the ship before, Maker forbid, the crew left without them. With the mystical star-like gem still cradled in his hand Varric let Isabela lead them through the thick jungle terrain with King Alistair bringing up the rear. This left him in the middle with the perfect opportunity to question the spirit to his hearts content since neither of his other companions offered topics of conversation to entertain them for their journey back.

Sure Varric had met his share of spirits, demons mostly, but he was a pretty good judge of character. And even though he couldn't see what the spirit had once looked like he could simply tell from the sound of her voice that she was a decent person and not at all anything remotely related to a demon.

So for the journey back Varric enjoyed a lengthily hearty conversation with their newest party addition-the former adventurer and scholar, Kiinalyn Stormblazer. The two of them took turns asking questions and telling tales. Kiinalyn more so than Varric which was fine with him as he was very eager to hear all the spirit had to share. And even though Varric knew that he was the only one asking the questions on behalf of their trio he knew that the other two were listening just as intently as he was. It was amazing the things that this spirit had to share.

Sure she was a little bit hesitant at the beginning of their conversation, making him think that perhaps she had forgotten what it was like to have a decent chat with someone. But once Varric got her going she just seemed to be an over-flowing fountain of history long forgotten, of stories about herself and of ancient legendary heroes that once existed in a world better than this one. No doubt she had been wanting to say this or anything, for that matter, for years and years.

It made Varric sad to think just how many years she had to wait for chance to speak with another. And whatever she had to say he would be more than happy to hear it. Especially, if she kept up her tale telling skills. Each one of her stories was proving more impressive than the last. Since the start of their conversation Kiinalyn spoke of her days as an adventurer traveling the land that was once called Skyrim, a vast country that was mostly known for its snow and breath taking mountain ranges that was part of what was once known as the Great Empire. She explained what history she knew of the countries she knew of back then in her time such as Morrowind, Cyrodiil, HammerFell, Black Marsh, and others. It was interesting to hear about the different races that had once inhabited the land, of the many different races of elves, also known as mer, and of orcs and the beast folk. Though upon hearing this particular part Varric had felt for the first time that he was beginning to second-guess her words.

"Wait," he interrupted. "So you're telling me that once upon a time there were walking talking cats and lizards strolling down the streets? You sure you're not just making all this up?"

The spirit chuckled lightly, her stone giving off a faint glow as she spoke. "You give me too much credit, Varric. I would have to have quite the imagination to phantom any of this."

"Well, you have been stuck in there for quite sometime," he pointed out.

"That may be true, but it's not. Argonians were from the Black Marsh and the only race that was able to breath under water. Kajjit were mostly known as traders and thieves. Their people were never welcomed for very long in any town across Skyrim. Sadly, both races were pretty much treated as second class citizens."

The land of Tamerial sounded like quite the place to be with all these facts he was learning. "And just where did you come from?"

Kiinalyn gave the information freely without missing a beat. "I grew up on the outskirts of the Imperial city in Cyrodiil on a farm with my uncle. My parents died when I was a child. My mother was an Imperial from the city itself and my father was a Nord from Skyrim. When my uncle grew ill and died I decided to travel to my father's homeland. He always used to tell me such stories about it, of his days as a member of the Companions."

"The Companions?" Sounded like a special club or something.

"They were a guild of fighters, swords for hire. We got contracts for jobs mostly for getting rid of pesky creatures such as bears, Falmor, giants, and other things. You name it we slayed it." Ah, so like her father before her she joined the guild as well. Didn't surprise him really that she would have joined such a group after she had told him of her being a mastery of blades once upon a time. Guess that's where she got her start.

"Dragons?" He heard Isabela inquire from up head as she hopped over a log. She had been silent since leaving the grove, but Varric knew it was only a matter of time before she and, hopefully soon, Alistair joined the conversation.

"I was the only true dragon slayer in the guild." The stone glowing with pride, most likely, as she said it. "Other members at times practically begged to accompany me in my travels for a chance to take one down. Never did though. Their eagerness would have been their deaths for sure."

Varric was smiling widely. "You're just one deep well full of stories, aren't you? I'm really going to like having you around." And it was the honest to Maker truth. Even though he had only known the spirit for a handful of hours he could already tell that the two of them were going to get along just swimmingly.

"A charming dwarf you are, Varric. I best be careful about you," Even though she was in a gem it was hard not to hear the smile in her voice at his comment. "And I thank you for letting me run my mouth off for as long as I have. It's been ages since I last spoke with another. I would like to hear about a bit of you lot now if you don't mind."

Varric shrugged thinking about how to tell their crazy tell. The noble quest that they were on to find the long lost King Maric of Ferelden. All on King Alistair's gold coin, of course. "There's not much to tell really about the company you now find yourself in. You got a handsome, merchant rogue dwarf, a lovely exotic pirate queen, and a rebellious, sarcastic king. Oh, what a merry band we make." He jested.

"Oh please, now you're just being modest for my benefit. I may be a spirit trapped in a rock, but that doesn't mean I can't see and hear what's going on around me. Especially, when you lot willingly sought out Yavana and nearly got crushed by a dragon."

Of course there was more of the story to tell. He was just getting warmed up. But then Alistair crossed his mind and had second-guesses about telling the spirit a story that he had no right to repeat. At least not yet. It was only a matter of time before he could skillfully spin this particular tale into a masterpiece. So for now he only told Kiinalyn the basics. "Well, me and Isabela are kind of under contract by the king here. The rest is more so of Alistair's story to tell if he feels like sharing."

"I really don't want to talk about it right now," Alistair said from behind them sounding on the edge of stubbornness and annoyance all at once. Yes, Varric knew that the king of Ferelden wasn't all too thrilled with the way things had gone in the Silent Grove, but he figured that after a few hours of mucking through the swamp he would have cooled off by now.

"Aw, come on." Varric tried to coax him. "Enlighten the spirit with your life's story." But perhaps he pushed him just a little wee too hard given the situation of everything.

Alistair snapped at him. "Varric, I said—"

"It's alright," the spirit cut him off for which, Varric was grateful. This swamp was already bad enough as it was, no need to be making it even more unbearable with having them all snapping and nipping at each other. But what Kiinalyn said next caught him off guard. "Actually, if you don't mind I think I will rest for a while."

Now Varric wasn't an expert on spirits, or ghosts of any kind, but he thought it was kind of a given that such supernatural things kind of, you know, lived forever. Or something along those lines of logic. "Spirits get tired?" Varric asked on behalf of the trio.

"They can when they have been a fuel source for a witch for many years," Kiinalyn explained. "Yavana sapped a lot of my strength during my time in her possession. It will take some time for me to get it all back."

He never really thought of it like that, but in a way by some sense of logic, it did make sense. Thinking back on the moments that the swamp witch had use her powers in their presence made Varric wonder just how much of that magical talent had been truly hers. Like performing that spell to bring Claudio Valisti's soul back from the Fade. Now he didn't know a lot about magic, but he knew enough about mages and by no means was that an easy feat to perform, even for a powerful mage. "I'm surprised that Yavana didn't zap you dry with the way she flaunted her magic around."

"Some souls are more powerful than others. But if she did drain me then I would have no longer have been any use to her."

"Why's that?" And Varric knew they were all curious as to what the answer would be.

"When you completely drain the life force of a soul it ceases to exist. The soul doesn't move on… it fades away into nothing." The word nothing hung in the air like a dark cloud over them. Maybe ghosts and spirits weren't as immortal as he thought.

Hearing that bit of new-found information sobered Varric's usual cheerful tone. "You know you never did say how you got trapped in this thing? You didn't even mention what this thing is."

Kiinalyn sighed, contemplating on whether or not to tell them the cold hard facts of her situation. "It's called a soul gem. Once a common tool used in the arcane arts. Necromancers depended on life forces for their magic. They would trap souls of the living while their bodies began to die and used them to fuel their magic and rituals. And once you're in it you can't get out. Not without help from the outside."

"Wouldn't breaking it set you free?" Varric winced after the words escaped his mouth. He already knew the answer to that question.

Alistair sighed. "Tried that. It didn't work."

Varric's curiosity continued to grow. How could something as simple as a stone be so complicated? "Why? This thing doesn't look that tough."

"I'm afraid that this is a special kind of soul gem."

"Just how special?" He pressed. There had to be something that would do the trick. A spell, a ritual, a legendary weapon with special properties to give the spirit the escape and peace that she so desperately wanted. "Surely there must be another way to get you out of there."

But his questions only seemed to overwhelm her. "I… I don't know. I just…I don't want to talk about it. Another time maybe, but for now let me rest." And without another word the light of the star dulled until its light distinguished.

* * *

The rest of the journey back to the ship was pretty much spent in silence except for the sounds of mucky water swooshing around their feet and the rustling of parting long grass once they finally set foot on actual dry land again. The three of them really didn't speak again till they found themselves on the ship's deck and made plans on where to head next. Once agreements and arrangements were made it didn't take Isabela too long to start shouting orders to her crew while Alistair slowly started to make his way to the stern obviously to spend some more time alone with his thoughts.

Varric pulled out the star gem from his coat pocket and brushed a thumb over its surface. The light was still out and nobody was home. Well, they were, but the current occupant wasn't up to entertaining any guests at the moment. He couldn't blame her, of course, because they all had an exhausting day. But before he himself turned in for the night there was just one thing he had to get off his conscience first. So he slowly walked over to join the jolly king in staring out the port side of the boat watching the last rays of sun disappear beyond the horizon.

With the sun set Varric took it has his cue to begin his little apology when Alistair beat him to it.

"I didn't mean to snap at you earlier," he said.

Varric let out a faint chuckle. "Funny, I was going to say sorry for trying to get you to talk about something you obviously weren't ready to talk about yet. I know you've got a lot on your mind right now after Yavana and all."

Alistair let out a heavy sigh. "That I do." Neither of them said anything for a long moment before Alistair's eyes fell to the gem that Varric had oh so carefully placed on top of the bulwark between them.

"So she hasn't said boo yet, huh?" he asked. More out of curiosity than for the sake of conversation.

Varric shook his head. "Nope, not a word." He wondered what Alistair's true thoughts were about the strange relic. "You don't think that she's really a demon in there making this all up, do you? Something that might try to steal our souls in the middle of the night?" Varric had already made his own opinion about the spirit inside, but he wondered what his companion thought.

Alistair shrugged. "At first, down in the Hall of Sleepers, the thought did cross my mind. But her voice sounded...I don't know… too real to simply be an act of deceit. Truthfully, I don't really know what to think, but I don't believe her to be a demon."

"Good me either," Varric said letting out a sigh of relief. It was good to know that he wasn't the only one thinking that. "She sounds too human to be one to me. Do you really think she'll be able to help you figure out your whole 'old blood' thing?"

"I hope so. Lately there just seems to be too many questions and not enough answers."

Yet another feeling they shared. "I hear ya. But she seems to be an overflowing fountain of knowledge. She's sure to know something about the subject, right? Hopefully, when she wakes up from her beauty sleep she might be able to tell you what you want to hear."

"Right," he replied giving a small smile. The first one Varric had seen since they left the grove.

And so ended their little pep talk. "Anyway, I'm off to my cabin. Maker knows that I got plenty to write down in my journal tonight." Varric handed Alistair the star gem as his way of encouraging him to ask the questions that were no doubting plaguing the poor king's mind.

"Night, Alistair."

"Until tomorrow, Varric."


End file.
